Chapter 95

Bessie fanned the flames, arguing, "What's the difference between this and actively bowing my head? I haven't done anything wrong, so why should I suffer such injustice!"

A year passed, and she still hadn't played with her classmates. Ophelia, once again intending to change many things, felt indifferent about befriending them; it no longer mattered to her. With that energy, she might as well have cared more about her husband. I didn't know what he was doing then. Did he miss her?

Resting her chin on her hand, her thoughts unconsciously drifted far away, and a sweetness lingered in her brows and eyes that she herself hadn't even noticed. The person next to her couldn't help but steal a glance at her. The girl had a rosy complexion and beautiful eyes, and as she seemed lost in thought, the corners of her mouth gently curled up.

Even if one hated Ophelia, one had to admit that she sat there so casually, looking as beautiful as a painting, making people's hearts race. Suddenly, a cold snort sounded in the classroom.

“What use is a pretty face? If the brain is just a bag of grass, I really don’t understand how such a person has the face to come to our Ventura University!”

Ophelia came to her senses and looked at the girl speaking—Hannah Bolton, the belle of the college. She had a bit of an impression of the department beauty. The other party hated her; the other party had a good relationship with Bessie.

“Do you have any opinions about me?” She stood up and walked directly in front of the other person, crossing her arms over her chest. From a higher position, she unexpectedly exuded a presence similar to that of Winford.

Hannah was taken aback, not expecting Ophelia to approach so directly. She felt a bit guilty and said, with a fierce tone but a weak heart, “Did I say something wrong? With your SAT scores, you couldn’t even get into a third-rate university. How did you get into Ventura University? Don’t you know?”

Ophelia sneered to herself. She had worked hard to get into Ventura University; when had her scores fallen so low that they couldn’t even meet the standards of a third-rate university?

“You’re speaking so confidently, as if you’ve seen my SAT scores,” she said bluntly. “We’re all students of Ventura University now, don’t you know that spreading rumors is illegal?”

“I never spread rumors…”

“Then bring out the evidence!” Ophelia said coldly, “Without proof, what else could it be but slander?”

She originally wanted to say a few more words, but suddenly her phone vibrated; it was a call from Winford! In an instant, Ophelia had no mind to care about anyone else; she coldly dropped a sentence:

“You’re already so grown up. I hope you can have some judgment of your own and not just believe whatever others say. All of this was told to you by Bessie, right? Let me give you a piece of advice: stay away from people like her who truly have character issues!”

After finishing the conversation, she took her phone and left the classroom without hesitation. This was the first time her husband had called her! I didn't know what he was looking for.

“Honey!” The call was quickly connected, and she exclaimed joyfully.

“Was there a class tonight?” A deep, seductive man's voice came through the phone.

Ophelia quickly glanced at the class group and saw that there was naturally no class tonight: there was going to be a class meeting. Upon seeing the message in the group that a few class leaders had something to explain and that the homeroom teacher wouldn't come, she immediately said without thinking, “There are no classes!”

“Come to the school gate.”

“Oh!” She instinctively agreed, and only after agreeing did she realize—at the school gate? Had Winford not gone home yet?

Just as I was about to ask a question, the phone had already hung up. She immediately rushed to the school gate, her heart filled with anticipation. What did he let her go over for? Was he at the school gate?

In the classroom, Hannah hadn’t had a chance to retort when Ophelia left. She stood there for two seconds, taking a long breath in frustration.

What is the most frustrating thing about arguing with someone? It’s not losing the argument, but rather that the other person doesn’t give you a chance to respond at all! She had a good relationship with others, and several girls were comforting her.

“You didn’t say anything wrong again!”

“Yes, she—Ophelia—was bought into Ventura University by the Greene family, wasn’t that a well-known fact?”